


Adamantine

by ladygiselatrevelyan



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Supernatural Elements, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24364780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygiselatrevelyan/pseuds/ladygiselatrevelyan
Summary: Detective Nicole Greene has lived in Wayhaven for thirty years. She thought she had it all figured out, until her second day on the job throws her into a convoluted and dangerous murder investigation. She knew she couldn’t be the only one like her. But she didn’t realize just how dangerous this other world could be.
Relationships: Female Detective (The Wayhaven Chronicles)/Other(s), Female Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Felix Hauville, Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Detective Greene

_January 12_

Sharing a three-bedroom home with the 21 year old son of the town’s mayor was not in my five year plan. One advantage is Douglas can no longer be late to work because we work together. Granted, now I am his boss rather than his coworker, with my recent (two days recent) promotion to detective.

I knock on his door as I pass by down the stairs. I hear some high-pitched giggling that is definitely not Douglas. I shake my head as I head down the stairs to make coffee and cook some breakfast. For three, it seems.

The tall hot blonde doesn’t stay for breakfast. She gives Douglas a quick peck on the cheek goodbye, a quick wave to me, and then heads out. 

Douglas digs into the simple eggs, bacon, and toast breakfast with a grin from ear to ear. He rubs the back of his neck.

“So. She’s cute.” I waggle my brows at him. He blushes and grins at his plate.

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s cute. And fun.”

“How long have you been seeing each other?”

It isn’t often that a woman -- albeit, these women are rather _young_ \-- stays the night. I won’t say that Douglas is a player, but he definitely has never been one to commit.

“Two weeks.” He nods, jutting his chin out. He looks proud. “I really like her.”

“Oh, Dougie. I’m so happy for you.” 

“Thanks. Oh, uh, by the way. We kind of borrowed some of your gin in the cupboard.”

I wave him off. “No biggie. I’m running to the store after work, anyway.”

He grins. “You’re so much cooler than my step-mom.”

“I think I’m older than your step-mom.” I scrunch up my face at him. Douglas chuckles. 

“Yeah, probably.”

///

I have been the sole detective of the Wayhaven Police Department for a total of two days, and on my second day, there is a dead woman who has more than likely been murdered. The former detective, Langston, is on the phone with me as I drive the police station’s black sedan reserved for its detective to the crime scene. 

“There’s not been a murder in nearly twenty years.” He says. He sounds like he’s also drinking coffee. I take a sip at the thought.

“I know. It’s a little intimidating since this is my first official case.”

“You’ll do great. Just remember to lean on your team. And I’m always here, too.” I smile at his words. Detective Langston, for lack of a better term, is definitely my mentor. He was my first point of contact with the police station after the courts decided I would be better off doing volunteer work instead of heading to jail for delinquency. He supported me through the academy, my training, and helped me study late into the night for the detective exams last year. Now that he’s finally retired, and I’m in the Big Seat now, he seems happy.

And he deserves it. At sixty-five, he has given over forty-five years of his life to the Wayhaven Police Department! He was my dad's partner back in the day.

“Thanks, Langston. I really appreciate that.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now.” He chuckles into the phone. His laugh reverberates through the car’s speakers. “Put on your bravest face and don’t let anyone know you don’t know what you’re doing yet. The reporters will eat you alive.”

“Don’t I know it,” I laugh.

“Anyway, I’ll let you go. Call me later, Detective.”

“Of course. Bye, Langston.”

“Goodbye.”

I click off the call and sit a little straighter in the driver’s seat. _Put on your bravest face and don’t let anyone know you don’t know what you’re doing._ I chuckle to myself. He always knows just what to say.

///

“Detective.”

I force a smile at the sight of Bobby Marks. He’s newly single, and now a frequent flier in my messages for reasons that are not entirely professional. Especially at 1 AM. Tina has made sure I have kept my word about not wanting him back in my life since the disaster that was our last break up. Coercive shaming among friends works wonders.

Even if Bobby is everything I’ve ever wanted. Or so I think. The crooked smile on his lips nearly makes me blush, and I respond with a bright, professional smile.

“No comment, Bobby.” I nod at him as I walk past him. 

“I didn’t ask anything yet.”

“You didn’t have to. I know that look.” I scrunch my nose up at him. 

I flash my badge at the officer guarding the tape. I have it hanging on a chain over my neck. I wanted a cool holder on my belt but Detective Langston says that’s just how they do it in the movies.

I nod at him as I duck under the tape. I greet the officer with a quick smile and head to where Tina, my old partner, and the county coroner, Doctor Hansen, are standing over a woman. The woman is covered with a white cloth, and seems to be clothed under the cloth. That’s a promising sign.

“Morning.” I nod at Tina, who is facing away from the body, and the doctor. “Detective Greene,” I introduce myself to the doctor.

“Nice to see you again.” We haven’t seen each other since the major car accident two years ago. I was still an officer then. 

“I’ll go do crowd control.” Tina says, nodding at me. She seems uncomfortable. I don’t blame her. We haven’t seen a dead body in at least three years.

“Go do that.” I agree, letting her head off with a somewhat relieved sigh. I am less squeamish, and kneel down beside the doctor.

“Morning, detective.” She says, looking up at me.

“What do we have?” I ask, taking in the sight before me. The sight of dead bodies no longer makes me squeamish. 

“No obvious signs of trauma, such as gunshot or injuries.” I nod, then glance around on both sides of the woman.

“No blood, either.” I say, looking to the doctor.

“Exactly. She wasn’t killed here.”

“Huh.” I pull a pen out of my shirt pocket -- Tina would get a kick out of that, my mirroring Detective Langston -- and my notepad. _Body placed behind garden store. Reason?_

“No ID yet but we sent her things off with the crime techs for analysis.”

“Right.” _Check w Verda._ “Get a name?”

“Janet Pearson. She lives about a hundred miles north by the city.” Doctor Hansen looks up at me. I write her name in my notebook.

“Oh, and detective, check this out.” The doctor gestures with gloved hands to the woman’s arms. There are deep puncture marks, as if there were needles stabbed inside of her.

“Too big for heroin.” I comment.

“Looks almost like a transfusion of some kind. I would check with the hospital and see if she matches any recent patient descriptions.” I quickly write that in my notepad: _Check hospital for recent blood transfusion._

“Thank you.” I nod.

“Congratulations on the promotion,” she comments as I stand to leave.

“Thanks. This will be a real trial by fire.” I admit, staring at the crowd that is slowly starting to disperse. Bobby is standing behind the police tape, snapping pictures of us.

“If you’re still the officer I met back on the interstate, this town couldn’t have a better detective.” I can’t stop the blush creeping up on my face. I grin down at her and nod.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll send my report down to your lab by the end of the day.”

“That’ll be great. See you around.” I grimace at my words. “Hopefully not too soon.”

The doctor chuckles and shakes her head. “Goodbye, Detective.”

I’m trying not to curse at myself as I walk back to my car. I glance down at my notepad and add a few more notes:

_Techs have personal effects_

_Body dumped - murdered elsewhere?_

_Possible health issues in victim - check hospitals and local clinic_

_Janet Pearson -- young white female, no jewelry or tattoos, blonde_

Tina waves at me. I head over and put my notepad back in my coat pocket.

“Hey, Detective.” She grins. “What a crazy start to your career!”

“I know. I was expecting less… felonies, I guess.”

“Right, especially in Wayhaven. I don’t think there’s been a murder the whole time I’ve been here.” Tina’s family isn’t originally from here, but she did grow up here. I’m only five years older than her and we met through work. Since then, we’ve become pretty close. Having the same sense of humor and unfortunately the same taste in emotionally unavailable men has brought us close as friends.

“No. Langston said there hasn’t been a murder in over twenty years.”

“Oh, you called him?”

“No, he called me on the way over. The man’s still got his connections.” 

“Uh huh. I’m sure. I bet Douglas tipped him off. I swear, that boy has the biggest mouth!”

I laugh with her. “No secrets with him around.”

“God, I know. He was snooping through my desk and asked me why I had so much candy! And then he said he took one.” Tina’s laugh is infectious.

“He’s wild.” I shake my head. “He’s lucky everybody loves him.”

“More like everybody’s scared of his dad. Except you.”

“He’s not that scary. Besides, I seriously owe him.” I grin. “If he had decided to press charges, I would have been in jail instead of working here. Who knows where I would have ended up?” I wink at her.

“Oh, now there is a scary thought.” Tina laughs.

“Anyway, I really should head back to the station. Thanks for holding down the fort here.” I tell her. She nods and waves me off.

“So long, detective,” she grins. “Until we meet again.”

“In an hour,” I remind her with a laugh.

///

I pull up to the station and park near the back. I bring my thermos of still hot coffee into the station with me.

I nod at Douglas -- Officer Friedman, of course, while we are work -- at the front desk. “Morning, Doug.”

“Hey.” He looks up from his phone.

“Look alive.” I call over my shoulder.

“Nobody ever comes in here anyway.” He mutters, loud enough for me to hear it. I glance at the dual monitors on his desk. I can’t see what’s on the screen, though I know they aren’t both work-focused.

“Then why do you need two monitors?” I tease before passing by the glass partition that holds my new office. I still have yet to decorate, though Tina assures me that she will take care of it like she did with the rental home. Interior decorating just isn’t my thing. Then again, being inside isn’t really my thing, either. 

I put my purse on my desk and take out my notepad.

 _Check w Verda_. Right. I take another sip from my thermos and leave it on my desk next to my purse.

I knock on the door at the end of the stairs in the basement. Verda answers.

“Hey. Heard you had the victim’s effects?” I ask. He nods and ushers me into the mixed purpose office and laboratory. In the very back is the morgue, which has been mostly unused for the past year. People don’t die very often in Wayhaven, especially not like this.

“Only a phone and a small wallet with ID, cash, and a credit card. No purse or anything else.” Verda takes me over to the table. He has everything laid out and with his camera around his neck, I presume also photographed. I’ve always admired his efficiency.

“Can I?” I gesture towards the phone. He shrugs and nods.

It unlocks without a passcode or fingerprint. It’s an older model, without a touch screen and a large keyboard. There is a picture of the woman and a younger man as the background picture of the phone.

“No texts or calls. Unless they’ve been erased.”

“You could ask for a warrant to obtain the records from the phone company.”

“Yeah, I might.” I try to stare at the small screen to get a good view of the man. “This might be our prime suspect.” I glance at him. “Usually the husbands.”

“She didn’t have on a ring.”

“Separated.” I glance back at the photograph. I can’t tell if they have rings on or not. “Could be a motive.”

“Go through the pictures.” Verda suggests. “Maybe you can find something there.”

“Good idea.” Oh, I hope I don’t run into anything unsavory in here.

Thankfully for me, the first photograph is blurry. And the second. As I swipe through, I notice that many of the pictures are blurry. I glance up at Verda, who is peering down at the phone with me.

“That’s very weird.” I say. He nods.

I go back more. Still blurry, and then suddenly it changes to a city backdrop. The woman is smiling, vibrant, hanging off the shoulder of the man from the pictures. He is attractive, with brown hair tied up in a fashionable man bun and an impossibly white grin. They are standing together; kissing each other on the cheek; arms around each other -- these are all clearly taken by somebody else. Then there are some selfies of the woman and this man. One could be considered risque, the two of them laying together under the covers in each other’s arms. She is taking a picture of the two of them.

“Oh. Poor girl.” I frown. I click back to the more recent pictures. I squint, trying to see if there is anything of use in them.

“Um. I could try to grab the EXIF data to see where she took these pictures.”

“Verda, that would be awesome.” I hand him back the phone. “You know so much more about this than I do.”

He chuckles. “You don’t need to be so old-fashioned like Detective Langston. We have the technology.”

Especially with the new grant from the mayor’s office. See: Douglas’ double monitored desk.

“I’m going to go draft up an affidavit and try to get that warrant signed today.”

“I’ll work on this.” He holds the phone up.

“I’ve got a great team.” I grin, turning on my heel to leave.

///

My back is stiff from the uncomfortable chair and the non-ergonomic computer situation in my office. Maybe I should have taken some of that grant money to freshen up my own office. I take a call from Detective Langston while I draft up the affidavit, and he helps me clean up the language and perfect the list of demands for what I want to search. 

It’s nearly the end of the work day when I finally email the completed affidavit to the county clerk. I will have to drop off a copy in person, which seems redundant, but I’ve always been one to follow the rules. Well, not always, but since I joined the police force.

I’m allowed to drive the black sedan on any official police and detective business. Considering this as one, and considering that city hall is the opposite way home, I don’t feel guilt driving the sedan to city hall to drop the packet in the mail slot and then head home.

There is a hot bath filled with lavender waiting for me at home. And maybe a couple cigarettes. 

I am just pulling into the driveway when my phone rings. It’s Verda-- I glance at the clock on my car. It’s 9:30 PM. He should be home right now.

“Evening, Verda. Don’t tell me you’re still at work.”

“Leaving now, actually. But I have a location for you. Got a pen?”

“Of course.” I pull my pen and notepad out. He reads out latitude and longitude coordinates. I repeat them back, to be sure.

“Yeah. You know it?”

“Not yet. But I’ve got GPS in this car.” I glance at the navigation system, then up to where my bathroom is calling my name. I sigh. “I’ll go check it out now.”

"We’re both workaholics,” Verda chuckles.

“No. We’re dedicated.” I tease. “Give my best to Eric and the kids.”

“Always. Be safe out there.”

“You know me, Verda.” I grin. “Always safe, never sorry.”

“Uh huh. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Well, you probably wouldn’t be going out this late.” But he also has a family.

“You’re right. Oh, to be young and full of energy again.” He laughs.

“Hey, you’re only five years older than I am!” 

“Just you wait. It hits you like a truck.” We share a laugh together, then we say our goodbyes. I punch the coordinates into the GPS in the car. It’s taking me towards the outskirts of town.

The road looks somewhat familiar out here. Then again, most of the outskirts give me that same nostalgic feeling. These used to be my haunts back in middle and high school, back when I didn’t give a shit about the world or anything or anyone in it. 

A warehouse is my destination. I park in front of it and leave my lights on. It looks abandoned, like it has been for years. The front entrance has rusted away.

I phone the station, letting the graveyard shift know where I am and that I am investigating the premises. They wish me luck.

I take out my flashlight and, as an extra precaution, flick the safety off my gun. If there is a murderer hiding out in here, I’m not going to be the detective who lets them get away.

It’s quiet outside. I close the door quietly. With my flashlight and gun out, I walk towards the front entrance. I hear rustling inside and take quicker steps forward.

“Freeze! Wayhaven Police!” I don’t scream as the birds fly past me, but I don’t feel very strong and proud. I shake my head and exhale. Okay, I am a little on edge.

I lower my gun, but keep my finger on the trigger as I investigate the main floor of the warehouse. It’s filled with old, rusted factory equipment. I nearly jump as my phone rings in my pocket. It echoes in the dark warehouse.

Good thing I can’t die from a heart attack.

“Bobby. What do you want?” I ask, frowning around me. 

“Okay, you could answer the phone a little nicer than that. This is a business call.”

“Again, what do you want?” I say. “I’m kind of busy.”

“Oh, got a hot date?” I glance around my surroundings. I shine my flashlight underneath some equipment.

“I’m working, actually.” 

“So dedicated. The people of Wayhaven will be pleased to hear that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The people are scared, Nicole. It’s been like 19 years since the last murder. But knowing that the new detective is working tirelessly will ease their fears.”

“Bobby, seriously, what do you want?”

“Just want a few comments from you, is all. Is it true that the victim was a drug addict?”

“What? First off, we won’t have the toxicology reports for at least five more days. Second off, who is your source?”

“The woman who found the body said that she had track marks on her arm. Any comment on that?”

I bite my lip. “I can’t comment on that, Bobby.”

"So this is less of a murder and more of an overdose situation?”

“Bobby, we are investigating this death as a suspicious death, possibly murder.” I say. Oh, God, this is my first official comment as Detective. I hear Bobby typing something.

Oh, God.

“Interesting.” He purrs.

“Bobby, listen--”

“No, that’s all I wanted, angel. Thank you.” He hangs up.

“Bobby! Ugh.” I groan and shove my phone back into my pocket. I would run my hands through my hair if I wasn’t holding my flashlight and gun.

I hear something slam below me. I freeze. That isn’t birds. I bring my flashlight and gun up, but before I can even say anything, I feel something hard slam into me. My back hits the wall of the warehouse with a loud crack. I cry out - more in surprise than pain, but oh, does it hurt - and try to shove my assailant off. 

Then I realize I have my gun still in my hand, even if my flashlight has fallen. I close my eyes and pull the trigger.

There is a hiss, and a grunt, then I’m finally freed from the hold. I lift myself off the wall and sprint towards the entrance. I spin around, but there’s nothing and nobody in here. My heart is racing in my ears.

“Hello?” I call out. I hear sounds of a struggle outside and run out, gun drawn. It looks like four or five people, but with two standing in front of my headlights, it’s hard to tell. I move my hair out of my face and hold my ground at the entrance.

“Freeze, all of you.”

“Great. The local arm of the law.”

“Don’t move.”

“Or what?” The same voice taunts.

“Or I’ll shoot you.” I already shot one of them.

“He already left,” another voice says.

“Who already left?”

“The one you already shot. We aren’t going to hurt you.” A different voice responds. The owner of this voice steps forward. 

“Stay back! I mean it, I’ll shoot.” 

“You’ll do no such thing.” Finally, a fourth - and final - voice speaks. They take a step forward and I pull the trigger twice-- shoulder first, then leg. They don’t flinch.

“Holy shit!” There is a loud laugh. “She actually shot you.”

“Let’s go.” 

“Stop!” I call out, but they are faster than I am. They disappear into the trees.

“Crap. Crap.” I stare down at my gun. I have to log all three shots. 

I bring a hand up to my lower back. There is a hole in my shirt. I must have fallen on something sharp. There is no wound, of course, but there will be a blood stain. I glance down. At least it was just a cheap work shirt.


	2. January 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after Janet Pearson's body is found, Detective Greene meets four federal agents and sees her mother for the first time in two years. She ends the night on a high note with an impromptu office celebration and a surprisingly pleasant phone call with her mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The current plan for this work is to have each chapter represent a day. This may change if the chapters become too long!

_January 13_

I stayed up late typing up two separate incident reports, as well as a report on what I found at the warehouse. I end my reports saying that there might be a connection between these individuals -- the single one who attacked me, and the group outside -- and the murder.

Running on only two hours of sleep and dressed in slacks and a button up shirt under my police jacket, I stop into the local cafe and grab a coffee and bagel.

“It’s on the house,” Haley grins. I shake my head and slip the $5 bill into the tip jar.

“Nice try, Haley.” I wink at her. “There’s no way I’m accepting free food.”

“See, this is why I gave it to you. You’re, like, Wayhaven’s knight.” I laugh.

“You watch too much TV.”

“Oh, whatever.” She sticks her tongue out at me. I laugh and wave goodbye to her before heading back to the car.

It’s only 8 AM, and I’ve already missed a call from the mayor when I get back to the car. I call him back as I’m driving to the station.

“Good morning, mayor.” I greet him as he picks up.

“Any breaks in the case?”

“I know you’re the mayor, but I really can’t discuss that with you right now.”

“Right. Of course. If you need anything, my office is always willing to help Wayhaven’s finest.”

“Thank you.”

“Douglas said you didn’t get home until late last night. Is everything okay?”

I bite my lip to keep from sighing. Douglas had been up when I had gotten home after the incident last night. Of course, he would tell his father that I was up all night in the office working on the case.

“Yeah. To be honest, with a case like this, I want to get out in front of it. The first 48 hours are the most important.”

“Of course. I admire your dedication. Not once have I doubted you as detective.”

“Thank you, sir.” Not that I had ever suspected him of doubting me... after all, I was the only one at the station who has even taken the detective’s exam.

“I’ll let you get back to it. Have a good day.”

“Thanks, you too, sir.”

I shake my head of the strange phone call. Talking with the mayor is like talking with a weird eccentric uncle, sometimes.

Captain Sung is waiting in my office. He is staring at the large potted maiden hair fern on my desk that obscures most of the rest of the room.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning, detective.” He looks up from the plant.

“Yeah, I haven’t found a good place for her yet.”

“Her?” He glances down at the plant with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t know plants were gendered.”

“Well, Mother Earth and all that-- um, anyway. How can I help you?” I hang my purse and jacket up as I ask. The captain turns to me.

“Just checking in with your investigation. A murder in Wayhaven is rare. How are you doing?”

I have a feeling he means more with the investigation than with my own personal feelings.

“We have a few possible leads. I sent over a search warrant to city hall last night and I’m expecting a reply by the end of today to check the victim’s phone records. Verda found GPS coordinates on the most recent pictures on the victim’s phone and I checked out the place last night. It was the old Farris warehouse outside of town.” I take a quick breath. “I encountered five individuals and discharged my weapon three times. It’s likely they are connected to the case in some way, but they left before I could apprehend and question them further.”

“You discharged your weapon?” He glances at the gun on my belt. I shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Yes, sir. I was assaulted by someone in the warehouse, and when I came out to investigate further, one of the individuals was noncompliant and moved towards me.”

“I see.” He glances me up and down. “And you’re alright?”

“Yes, sir. Sore back but that’s all.” A white lie. A tinge of guilt settles in the pit of my stomach anyway.

“I expect your incident reports by the end of the day on my desk.” He nods at me.

“Actually, I emailed them last night.” He raises an eyebrow with a slight smile. “And I’ll place them into the investigation file, as well.”

“I expect nothing less of you, Detective Greene.” He gives me a nod.

“Sir.” I nod back.

He leaves the office. Tina walks by and points at him behind his back, cocking her head at me. I wave her inside.

“Listen. Something weird happened last night.” I quickly relay the tale to her. I realize that I should tell Verda, too.

“Oh my God. That’s so scary. What if something bad had happened?”

“Tina, don’t worry about me.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve been going to the shooting range every weekend for three years. If I had to incapacitate them, I would have.” In both tales, I don’t mention that my bullets hadn’t seemed to do much to the second individual.

“Okay.” She squeezes my hand on her shoulder, then pulls me into a tight hug. “Oh, Nicole! That’s really so scary. And you’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah. A bit freaked out, but other than that, totally fine.” I smile at her. “I should go down and tell Verda.”

“Yeah, he’ll want to know.” She agrees.

///

I’m trying to make a cup of coffee for Verda, but of course, today of all days, the coffee machine decides that it doesn’t want to work for me. I frown at it.

“You suck.” I open and close the flap where the coffee pods go again. “Do something.”

“Try unplugging it and plugging it back in.” I spin around, nearly taking the coffee machine with me.

“Mom! Hi. What… what are you doing here?” I feel like I’m yelling. She looks the same as always- platinum blonde hair in a shoulder-length bob, a dark pantsuit, heels that make her the same height as me. Same as she was two years ago, when I last saw her.

“You didn’t call to tell me about your promotion.” She says, raising an eyebrow at me with a smirk. “The mayor did, though. Told me I should be proud of how far you’ve come since high school.”

“Well, you know me.” I grin, leaning against the counter and patting the coffee machine. “Ambitious, and all that jazz.”

“I do know you.” She walks over to me and unplugs the coffee machine. She smiles at me for a few seconds before plugging it back in. Of course, now the water starts to boil.

“So, what are you doing here?”

“I heard about the murder.” She puts a hand on my arm. This is the most affectionate she gets. “I’ve come to help.”

“Mom, I appreciate it, but I really don’t need the help.” I work on making Verda’s cup of coffee. “Do you want some?”

“No, thank you.” She raises a hand. “I’m not here to step on your toes, detective.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I frown. “I just meant, you know, we’re doing good. I checked out a warehouse last night and ran into some possible suspects.”

“Who?” My mom asks quickly.

“I don’t know. They ran off before I could question them.” I don’t tell her about the discharging of my weapon. She hates guns.

“So, you didn’t see them?”

“No. It was dark, and they were standing in front of my headlights.” And with my broken flashlight still somewhere in the warehouse, I wouldn’t be able to see them. “But it was suspicious. The victim’s phone data shows that she was there the night before her body was found. I’m going to have the tech guys head up there today.” Once I finish making this cup of coffee and talk to Verda.

“That’s a good idea. Anyway, the reason I am here is because the victim you found was also on our radar. So, like it or not, my team and I are involved in this investigation with you. And the mayor agrees.”

“Of course he does.” I nod, biting my lip and staring down at the now finished cup of coffee. “That explains the weird phone call this morning.”

“Weird phone call?”

“Yeah. He called me this morning. Told me he didn’t doubt for a second that I was the right person for this job.” I shake my head. “I knew something was off about that.” I smile at my mom, hoping it doesn’t look as strained as it feels. “So, where’s your team?”

“In your office, already. I saw you back here and wanted to see you first.” She puts her hand on my arm again. “Get all the awkward mushy stuff out of the way, you know.”

“Oh, my therapist will love to hear you say that,” I tease with a small laugh. She smiles.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Mom.” It’s just in the nature of her job to disappear for months, or years, on end. I’m used to it. I don’t like it, but I’m used to it.

“Detective!” I spin around, again, nearly knocking the cup of coffee to the ground.

“Verda. I was just coming down to see you.” I hold up the cup of coffee. He holds up his thermos.

“Got my own this morning.” He glances at my mother, then back at me with as wide of a grin as he can muster. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Smooth.” I laugh, rolling my eyes. “This is my mother, Rebecca Greene. Mom, this is Doctor Soloman Verda. He’s our pathologist.” They exchange a brief handshake.

“Douglas said we have some visitors.” Verda glances to my mom. “Federal agents.” His eyes turn back to me. “Must run in the family.”

Mom and I exchange a glance with a nod. “Yeah, you could say that.” I tell him. “Anyway, last night-”

“Tell me later. You’re standing here just fine in front of me.” He smiles at me. “Besides…” He glances with his eye towards my office. I follow his gaze. Two men are peering in at us through the glass partition in my office through the glass walls of the break room. A tanned hand waves at us. “You’re busy.”

“Alright. I’ll take this coffee, then.” I wink at him. Verda nudges me in the side with an elbow. “Shoot me an email with those blood results.”

“Haven’t got them yet. Might need to send you down to the hospital for a shakedown later.” He grins, then waves goodbye to my mom and me as we head out towards my office.

I step in first and greet the group of men with as warm of a smile as I can muster. It isn’t hard, which says more about my social conditioning towards conventionally attractive men than anything. Tina, wherever she is, would enjoy this far more than I already am.

“Welcome to Wayhaven. I’m Detective Nicole Greene.” I walk past the men to set the mug on the desk, next to my to go cup of coffee. My mom nods to me from the closed door.

“Glad to be here. I’m Agent Nathaniel Sewell. You can call me Nate.” His voice is oddly familiar. I shake his extended hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Agent Felix Hauville.” The shortest of the group appears suddenly at Nate’s side as our handshake ends. I try not to break my smile as he brings my hand to his lips in what is certainly the most charming greeting I’ve ever experienced.

There’s a scoff from the window. A tall man with long dark hair is shaking his head at Agent Hauville. “What are you doing?”

“Greeting the Detective.” Agent Hauville replies, turning to grin at me. “You should try it, Mason.”

“You just did it for me.”

I roll my lips together and try not to let out a laugh. I clear my throat to cover the chuckle that nearly escapes. I take my hand back from Agent Hauville.

“Nice to meet you.” I nod to him with a smile. All of them sound so familiar.

I turn to the final member who is standing with his arms crossed by the door with my mother.

“Agent Adam du Mortain.” He tells me with a nod. I nod back, then glance at my mother. Their voices, really, sound so familiar.

“Oh, no nice to meet you for him?” Agent Hauville lets out a laugh. I recognize that laugh. I spin and stare at him, then back at the other three agents.

 _No_. That would be crazy.

“Are you okay, detective?” Agent Sewell asks, taking a step forward.

I bring a hand up to the side of my head. I exhale, then shake my head. “Yeah. Sorry. Too much caffeine.”

Because there is no way that I shot at four federal agents last night, and the one who I probably shot twice is standing with his arms crossed and no visible injuries.

“Oops,” Felix chuckles with a grin. That laugh sends shivers down my spine. I straighten my shoulders and do another glance over the of the men. My mom clears her throat.

“Right. Back to business. Sorry.” I turn on my heel to head to my desk. My abnormally large office plant, still without a permanent home, blocks my view of them for a moment.

“Is the plant entirely necessary?” Agent du Mortain asks. I peer up over the plant. Felix is grinning at me. He’s definitely cheerful this morning.

“It’s an office-warming gift,” I say, running a delicate hand on one of its leaves. My olive green manicure matches the leaves perfectly. I only appreciate it for a brief moment before putting my attention back to my computer. “I haven’t had a chance to do much decorating in here. What with the murder, and all.” I glance up at Felix, who seems to appreciate my little jokes. He seems to be catching on and gives me a small nod with a big grin.

“Is there any information to share, or has your investigation already hit a wall?” _What a-_ I don’t finish that thought. I try my best not to glare at Agent du Mortain.

“We should be hearing back on a search warrant today for the victim’s phone records. The autopsy should also be done, and the preliminary blood test results should also be available.” _Plus searching the warehouse when I get a chance to go down and talk with Verda._ My eyes scan the room again. I know they are my mom’s team, but if the screaming in my gut is right and they were there are the warehouse last night…

“No suspects or persons of interest yet?” Agent du Mortain asks.

“One possible suspect.” I open my email and search for _picture_. Verda said he would email me the pictures from the victim’s phone of the mystery man. I print out the three pictures that Verda has sent. “These pictures were recovered from the victim’s phone, likely a partner.”

I ignore the mechanical whirring and groaning of my printer. It’s been on its last legs for a while. I lean down and grab the papers and place them on the desk. Agents Sewell and du Mortain lean forward for a brief glance, then look at each other with a look I can’t quite decipher.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Agent Sewell answers with a warm smile.

“That’s all?” Agent du Mortain asks. Our eyes lock and I feel a hot pang of anger, wholly irrational and unnecessary, well up in my stomach. Is he questioning my ability as detective, or is he normally this standoffish?

I realize after a few moments that I haven’t replied to him yet. I feel ten eyes on me as I finally say, “That’s all.”

I glance up and see Verda waving to me through the glass partition. Thankful for the distraction, I stand and nearly run to the door.

“Excuse me,” I tell the agents. My mom gives me a worried glance as I pass by her.

“Thank you,” I exhale as I close the door behind me. “I was really bombing it back there.”

“I don’t blame you,” Verda says with a light chuckle. “I ran some preliminary tests yesterday before I sent off the blood sample to the hospital. And it came back… weird, so I ran it again this morning after doing a hard reset on the machine.” He hands me the thin report.

“Animal blood? In her blood?” I ask after glancing over the results. “That is weird.”

“Very weird.” He glances into the office briefly. “So, the rumors are true, then: the feds are stepping in.”

“Yeah. They’ll definitely want to see this report.” I close it and place it under my arm. “Anyway, so last night, I ran into five individuals at the warehouse, but they didn’t stick around long enough for any questioning. I’m wondering if you can have your tech guys head out there to do a sweep. They definitely weren’t kids, or junkies.”

The door opening makes me nearly jump into Verda. Agent Sewell sticks his head out with a smile. “Hey. Everything okay out here?”

I only stepped out for a second. I look from Agent Sewell to Verda, then shake my head. “I’ll come down and see you for the autopsy report in a bit.”

He nods and waves goodbye. I turn back to Agent Sewell and hand him the report that Verda just handed me.

“Preliminary testing came back on the victim’s blood. Two tests have shown that it’s more similar to animal blood than human.” I step back into the office and close the door.

“The machine you are using must be malfunctioning.” Agent du Mortain says. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s been recalibrated already. Those are the results.” I gesture to the report that Agent Sewell is reading. He passes it along to Agent du Mortain, who merely gives a cursory glance before nearly throwing it to Agent Hauville.

“They’re wrong.” Agent du Mortain challenges. He may be only an inch or so taller than me, but I’m not afraid or intimidated by him.

“They’re not. Verda’s a pro.” I place a hand on my hip, being careful not to get too aggressive and place it on my gun. Agent du Mortain’s gaze lowers briefly to the gun on my opposite hip, then back at me. If looks could kill…

“A pro?” He raises an eyebrow. My gaze locks with his bright green eyes.

“I’m assuming your implication is that because Wayhaven is a small town there can’t be pros here.” I cross my arms.

“I wasn’t implying that at all.” I narrow my eyes at him. I never realized how much pride I had in Wayhaven and my colleagues.

“You can have your doubts about me all you want, but don’t you dare underestimate my team.” I ball my fists under my arms. I don’t need to start literally pointing my fingers right now.

“Whoa.” Agent Hauville says to our right.

“Feisty.” Agent Mason mutters.

“That isn’t at all what Adam was trying to say,” Agent Sewell steps in between us, physically breaking the strange tension that had built up between us. He holds his hands out in a gesture of peace. “Let’s sit down and discuss what we have on our side.”

“Good idea, Agent Sewell.” My mother says. She glances between Agent du Mortain and I, an unreadable expression on her face, but there are hints of disappointment in her eyes. But for whom?

///

Agent Sewell leads the debriefing. Agent du Mortain could be mistaken for an ancient Roman statue that has been dressed in the clothing of an off-duty Commander in the military. His green eyes remind me of the Bells of Ireland; ironic, considering his British accent.

I try not to think too much about Agent du Mortain’s eyes anymore and turn my attention back to Agent Sewell. None of the victims have anything in common, not even location of death, aside from all being located in the United States. Naturally, a serial killer in Wayhaven is giving me a renewed sense of urgency to solve this murder quickly.

The eleven photographs of the victims, excluding Janet Pearson, are laid across my desk. I moved the large maidenhair fern into my desk chair for the time being, standing and staring down at the photographs. Men and women, and one child, with closed cadaver eyes. The first few victims have torn necks; the more recent ones, like Janet, have no marks on their necks.

“Oh.” I look up at the clock. We have been in here for nearly two hours. “Verda is downstairs ready to give us the autopsy report.” I put my hands on my hips and glance at my new colleagues. “I don’t know if we have room for everybody.”

“I’ll stay here.” Agent Mason says, leaning against the wall next to the window.

“Me, too.” My mother says as she looks at Agent du Mortain. “You, too.”

“Oh, you’re in trouble,” Agent Hauville teases.

“Well, follow me, then.” I gesture for Agents Hauville and Sewell to follow me. I close my office door behind me.

“This is kind of spooky,” Agent Hauville says as we head down the dark stairwell to the basement.

“Scared of some corpses, Felix?” Agent Sewell teases. I stop at the metal door and knock lightly.

“You know me, absolutely _terrified_ of death and dead things.” I glance back at Agent Hauville. He is grinning at Agent Sewell at his side.

“Detective.” Verda answers the door, then looks at my two companions. He reaches a hand out to Agent Sewell first. “Doctor Soloman Verda.”

“Agent Nathaniel Sewell, but please, call me Nate. This is Agent Felix Hauville.” I step inside so Agent Hauville can greet Verda. Agent Hauville doesn’t choose to greet him with the same over the top greeting he chose with me. Verda finishes shaking their hands and invites them in.

“Welcome to Wayhaven,” he gestures to the small morgue in the back of the basement.

“We are certainly enjoying ourselves,” Agent Hauville grins behind us. Agent Sewell glances from him to me, then gives me a warm smile.

Verda’s keys clinking together bring our focus back to the thick metal door in front of us.

“Here,” Verda holds out a box of non-latex gloves. We each place them on and circle around the cloth-covered body on the metal slab in the middle of the room. This is the first dead body to be down here in over three months.

“Aside from these marks on her arms, she had no other scarring on her body.” Verda uncovers the cloth on her left side to expose the deep grooves in her forearm. “Otherwise perfect health with her organs.” I nod at him, frowning as I inspect the wounds on her forearm again.

“With the results from blood report, is it possible that somebody injected her with animal blood?” I glance up at Verda.

“Possibly. We could get more information from the hospital’s tests. I told them it was a matter of urgency but their pathologist _insists_ that it will take another day or two.” Verda shakes his head. I know what he’s thinking, and I’m glad he doesn’t say it. We don’t need our new federal government friends thinking we can’t play nice with anyone, especially after whatever happened with Agent du Mortain and I in my office.

“Why would somebody do that?” Agent Hauville asks. He’s standing on the other side of the body with Verda; Agent Sewell is beside me.

I glance down at where Linda’s face is covered with the cloth. “You’d be surprised at the things people will inject themselves with.” I look to Agent Sewell, then Verda. “We probably won’t know the results of the toxicology report until the hospital finishes their testing, right?”

“Right.” Verda confirms.

I glance to Agent Hauville. I notice he has been avoiding looking down at the cadaver. I glance up to Verda when he starts to speak.

“There were no marks on her wrists or ankles, but there were fiber marks with blood on her clothing that indicates some type of rope was used to restrain her at some point.” Verda hands me a small plastic bag with minuscule fibers. I squint at them. Not sure what I’m looking for, but I want to look productive in front of our guests, I suppose.

“With blood, but no marks on her body?” I clarify, raising an eyebrow. Then I glance down at the face covered by the cloth. I remember her clearly: long curly blonde hair, gravel dust on her cheeks, high cheekbones, and a small nose. Her eyes were a bright blue in her pictures on her phone.

“Her own blood?” Agent Sewell asks.

“Yes.” Verda answers. “This murder investigation is certainly anything but ordinary.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Agent Hauville says. I pull my gaze away from the cloth-covered face and nod at him.

We suddenly hear a thud above us. We all glance up.

“Douglas, probably.” I sigh, rolling my eyes over to Verda. “I wonder what he’s doing in my office.”

Agent Hauville laughs behind his hand. I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Well, I wish I had more for you, Nicole.” Verda says, placing the cover back over Linda’s arm. “Hopefully, those phone records will shed more light on what she was doing before she died.”

“Right. I should check my email to see if that got approved.” I can’t imagine it wouldn’t, for a murder investigation. We say goodbye and I escort the two federal agents back through the basement and up to the main floor of the police station.

Douglas is on the phone at his desk. I frown, then glance back over to my office. When we enter, my mother and Agent du Mortain are sweeping up the remnants of my fern and the red pot she lived in.

“My fern!” I gasp. Agent Hauville laughs as he enters, then stops when I turn around and glare at him. “Oh, what happened to her?” I kneel down and pout at her crumpled leaves.

“It was an accident,” my mother says, then glances briefly at Agent du Mortain.

“An accident?” The pot is smashed to pieces, and the poor fern is listing to her side in a pile of moist dirt.

There is a scoff at the window. I was so distraught over my poor fern that I didn’t notice Agent Mason smoking at the window. We lock eyes, and his gray eyes are challenging me to say something. So I do.

“This isn’t the seventies; you can’t smoke in here.” I glare at him, then turn my glare back to my poor fern. I sigh, heavier than I wanted to, but I know it isn’t the fern that is the problem. Maybe I wasn’t ready to be detective yet.

“Here, throw this away.” My mother hands some pieces of the pot to Agent du Mortain. I’m thankful for his presence to be gone, especially if he is going to behave like a bull in a china shop. He grunts in reply to her and stands to leave.

“Did she have a name?” Agent Hauville squats down next to me, his dark fingers lightly touching one of her leaves.

“No. Not yet, I guess. Douglas usually names them.” I sigh again and try to pick up the bulk of the fern and her roots. I feel something sharp prick my finger and wince. “Ouch.”

“Careful,” Agent Hauville says. His gaze is focused on the plant in my hands.

“I’m fine.” I assure him. He looks up when Agent Sewell clears this throat.

“Right. I’m going to, uh, go stand over here.” Agent Hauville excuses himself and nearly runs to the other side of the office next to Agent Mason by the window. He mutters something to Agent Mason that makes the other one nearly snort on his cigarette.

 _Could this day get any weirder?_ I pull out a desk drawer with my boot and plop the fern gently in the empty drawer.

“Well, if I have to go to the garden center later today anyway, I’ll have to pick up a new pot.” I mutter to myself. My mother and Agent du Mortain walk back into the office. Their eyes focus on Agent Mason and Agent Hauville by the window first, then to me wiping my hands with a tissue and tossing it into the trash can by my desk. Agent du Mortain’s gaze stays focused on the trashcan for a moment longer than my mother’s does.

///

Agent Sewell and my mother come with me back to the garden center to check their CCTV cameras. Agents du Mortain, Mason, and Hauville are heading to the courthouse to pick up the signed warrant and head to the local AT&T store.

I frown at the camera feed. The body is just out of view. We don’t see anybody coming and going through the night until the manager walks past the camera and finds her body.

“Nothing?” Agent Sewell asks beside me. I shake my head.

“Nothing.” I agree. My mom is standing a few feet over on the phone.

“Look, I just want to apologize for our behavior earlier.” Agent Sewell places a hand on my forearm. “This case has been weighing heavily on us for a while. And now that a resolution is finally within reach, I fear that we haven’t made the best first impressions.”

I smile up at him. “You have nothing to apologize for, Agent Sewell. For yourself, or your team.” Even Agent du Mortain. “Verda was right when he said this murder investigation keeps getting weirder.”

He gives a quick smile, then gestures for us to join my mother outside. As soon as I get into the driver’s seat, my phone starts ringing. Of course, it’s Bobby Marks.

“Why is he calling?” My mom frowns from the passenger seat. I refrain from groaning, but I do sigh lightly.

“Vultures,” I nearly hiss out. I pull my phone out of it’s holder and take the call outside of the car, leaning against the driver’s side door.

“Detective Greene,” I say as I answer the phone.

“Ooh, professional. Love it.” Bobby coos into the phone. “Now, have I heard some interesting rumors.”

_Douglas!_

“And what rumors are those?” I ask, trying to play it cool. My patience is really being tested today from all sides. My mother’s sudden appearance definitely isn’t triggering any repressed feelings or anything.

“Five federal agents have suddenly appeared in Wayhaven. Though, funny, when I run their names through the internet, I get nothing. Hmm.”

I roll my eyes into the call. “Not everybody is as connected on the internet as you are, Bobby.”

“Uh-huh. I’m aware, but also, this investigation isn’t just a simple overdose.” I can’t stop the deep groan that escapes my lips.

“Bobby, I already told you it wasn’t an overdose!”

“You weren’t very convincing.” I feel my cheeks get hot. “Now, what’s the real story? Unhinged serial killer let loose in Wayhaven? Act of terrorism? The people are scared and waiting.”

“Bobby, seriously, stop fishing around and wait for us to release a statement like everyone else.”

“When will that be?”

“Soon. Today, before 3.”

“It’s already 2:20.” _Shit,_ I mouth. I put a hand on my forehead.

“Yeah. I’m on my way back to the station right now to draft a press release.”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you there, detective.” He hangs up the phone. I nearly throw my phone across the parking lot. I nearly rip the car door off its hinges and slam it shut.

“Okay. We’re doing a press release as soon as we get back to the station.” I tell my mom as I start the car up.

“Is that the best move?” Agent Sewell asks from the backseat.

“Yes.” I don’t snap, thankfully, and my mother nods in agreement with me. “A murder in Wayhaven is pretty big news. As much as I may dislike Bobby, he’s right when he says people are scared.”

I should make Douglas our official press secretary if he isn’t going to be keeping his mouth shut anyway. Though by the time he does any training, this murder investigation should hopefully be wrapped up.

///

The press release is drafted quickly. Tina is so good at these.

“On January 12, 2020, at approximately 8:40 AM, the Wayhaven Police Department responded to a suspicious circumstance on the property behind the Hudson Garden Superstore at 7621 Foster Road. When officers arrived on-scene, they found a dead woman lying in the field.” I glance over at Mayor Friedman on my right. He looks far more regal and at ease than I feel right now. 

“We want to assure our community that there is no current threat to public safety at this time. The victim’s identity is being withheld as we try to get in contact with relatives. We ask that any witnesses or anyone with information please contact Detective Nicole Greene at the local police station or [ngreene@cityofwayhaven.org](mailto:ngreene@cityofwayhaven.org).”

I step away from the podium, and Mayor Friedman takes the stand. I fold the statement up and put it into my pocket, nodding for Tina to follow me into the station. She puts a hand on my shoulder.

“I didn’t know what to say about the federal agents, sorry.”

“No, you’re okay.” We both glance outside to the mayor laughing charismatically into the single microphone. “Mayor Friedman will have a better answer than we could come up with.”

“You’re right.” Tina glances over her shoulder at the four agents in my office. My mom is standing outside next to Mayor Friedman, and as he gestures over to her, I realize he is introducing her. I wonder if anybody out there recognizes her.

“Oh!” I turn to Tina suddenly and put a hand on her shoulder. Her gaze doesn’t leave the office. “I need to go check in with Verda.” I follow her gaze and let out a light laugh. “Why don’t you go see if they need anything?”

“Uh-huh.” Tina says, needing no more instruction from me and making her way into my office. I pass by with a slight wave to Agent Sewell then head down the stairwell.

“Any update from the hospital?” I ask Verda as soon as he opens the door for me. He shakes his head.

“Of course not.” He sighs. “Tomorrow, that should be your first stop. Maybe with that smoker.” He chuckles at me. I roll my eyes.

“Really, I think the tall blond is the most intimidating.” I lean closer to him. “He broke my fern. My mom says it was an accident, but it was, like, smashed to pieces.”

“You don’t think he threw it?”

“No, but unless he has, like, Hulk strength, I don’t know how he managed to completely shatter that pot.” I shake my head with a sigh. “As if this whole investigation couldn’t get any weirder. Anyway, the phone records should be here by the morning, Agent du Mortain said, and CCTV was a dead end. I guess tomorrow I’m going to run down to the hospital before I come in to grab those results for you.”

“Thanks.” Verda nods.

“Any time.” I nudge him lightly with my elbow. “Anything else?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. I may even get to head home early tonight.”

“Hey, you can always come up to my office and help me with paperwork.” I tease.

“Not a chance.”

///

My journey back to my office is interrupted by one Bobby Marks.

“Hey, Nicole!” I see Tina’s eyes pop up over the glass partition immediately at the sound of his voice. I cross my arms, then instead place a hand on my hip.

“Wasn’t everything you wanted covered in the press release?”

“Well, more actually from the mayor. But anyway, this isn’t work-related.” He grins. “Let’s grab drinks.”

“What, now? In the middle of a murder investigation?”

“Hey, you’ve got a full office.” He gestures to my office. Tina and Agent Hauville are both peering at us.

“And an audience.” I comment, then shake my head at Bobby. “No.”

“Oh, come on. Lighten up. Just as friends.” He holds his hands up.

 _Lighten up_. Gross.

“My final answer is no.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him, and push down the teeny tiny voice saying _Why not?_ “I bet your new pal Douglas would love to go grab a drink.”

He grins. That stupid crooked grin that used to make me swoon and do whatever he asked, whenever he asked. “Last chance, angel.”

“I’m truly, honestly busy.” I take a few steps into my office and wave at him. “Goodbye.”

“Sure you are.” He glances back into the window. “A few hot men stroll in and suddenly I’m chopped liver.” I roll my eyes and sigh.

“Goodbye.” I stress again, opening the door to my office.

“See ya around.” He waves as he turns around.

“What a tool,” Tina says as soon as I close the door.

“That’s a word for him.” I mutter, then I nod at the agents. “I think we’re done for the day. Unless anybody wants to stay behind and help with the paperwork.”

“Not it!” Agent Hauville chirps immediately, turning around from the glass partition.

“I’ll stay,” Agent Sewell offers.

“We should all be heading back.” Agent du Mortain stresses, glancing at Agent Sewell specifically. They exchange a glance, then Agent Sewell turns to me with an apologetic smile.

“He’s right.”

Agent Mason is the first to leave, then Agent Sewell behind him. Agent Hauville gives me a warm smile and a wave. Agent du Mortain is the last to leave, standing in front of me.

“I apologize for the incident with your fern.” He nods.

“Did my mom make you apologize?” I ask with a grin. His eyes widen, then his lips curve up into a smile.

“No. Goodbye, detective.” He holds his hand out for a handshake. I accept, surprised at how warm his hand is. It’s been a long day; I’m glad to end it on a good note.

“Bye.” My grin is still on my face as he turns to walk out. I bring my hand up in a quick wave as the four of them walk past the glass partition out of the office. Tina nearly runs back into the office after they pass Douglas’ desk.

“Oh my God!” She nearly shouts. “Okay, wow. He has, like, the best smile.”

“Who?” I ask, bringing my attention back to her. _Which one…_

“Agent Hauville,” she nearly swoons. “And Agent Sewell. They’re so charming. Are you sure they are real federal agents?” She grins at me.

I glance down at my poor fern in my desk drawer. I forgot to grab a new pot for her.

“I know they are only here because of the murder, and that isn’t good, but oh my God, why didn’t you tell me sooner that your mom knew such hunks? Why are you bothering with guys like Bobby when you can do so much better?” I gasp up at Tina.

“Tina, you can’t be serious. Of all the guys who are off-limits, I think federal agents are at the top of that list. Especially working with my mom.” I grimace. “Ugh, but Bobby asking me out for drinks in front of everyone was so embarrassing. Read the room! This is a murder investigation.”

I hang my head in my hands as I sit down in my worn down office chair.

“Totally gross.” She agrees, taking a seat in front of my desk. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I look up at her through my fingers. “You know what’s bad?”

“What?” She leans forward with an eyebrow raised. She has to know what I’m about to say. The look in her eye says that she is about to smack my arm.

“A small, tiny part of me wanted to say yes.” Yep, there’s the smack.

“Nicole! No.” She points her finger at me. “Absolutely not.”

“That’s what the rest of me said,” I groan back into my hands. “What is wrong with me?”

“Clearly you just need a rebound to get over him once and for all. I know you haven’t been seeing anybody since your break-up. And look, we have four eligible men who have suddenly showed up in this small town.”

I laugh into my hands, ignoring the blush coming up on my cheeks. “Tina, seriously, for one, totally unprofessional. Two, even _if_ any one of them are single and looking to mingle, I can guarantee that I am not their type.”

“Oh, come off it. You’re hot and young. That’s every guy’s type.”

“I’m thirty,” I grimace.

“Just because Bobby’s preferred age is barely graduated doesn’t mean you’re suddenly an old spinster.” She grins suddenly. “I saw the way Agent Yes-Smoking looked at your ass as you walked by.”

“What are you talking about?” I laugh.

“He was totally checking you out,” Tina smirks. “And Nate offering to stay here late and do _paperwork_ … girl, he’s got the hots for you, too. Nobody wants to do paperwork.” Her eyes are glittering with mischievous thoughts.

“Tina, please. _Agent Sewell_ was being nice.”

“He said he prefers Nate.” I laugh again.

“There is far too much laughter in here.” Tina and I both jump at the booming voice in the doorway. Richard Langston, former detective of the Wayhaven Police Department, is standing with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “Looks like I’ll need another glass.”

Tina looks at me, and I nod. “I’ll get it! I can drink out of a plastic cup.”

“Great.” He says, then grins at me. “Look at you! Detective Greene, leading her first murder investigation on the third day of the job.”

“I’m doing my best,” I say with a smile. I stand as he brings another chair over.

“I hear we’ve got some federal involvement in the case.” He pops open the bottle and begins pouring.

“Yeah. Mom’s guys if you can believe that. What are the odds?” I accept the glass with a smile. “Thanks.”

“Out of this world,” he says. Tina comes back in with a plastic cup and he pours some of the champagne into her cup.

“To a successful and swift investigation,” Langston offers with a grin at the two of us. We all clink our glasses together.

I take a sip. “So, what brings you down here?”

“Mayor Friedman called to tell me he was impressed with the sudden press release. He would have preferred more advance notice, but he was impressed.” I nod at Tina.

“We couldn’t have done it without Tina.” He raises his glass to her with a smile.

“I’m glad you’re leaning on your team.” He nods to me. I grin.

“Of course. I can’t do it all alone.” Tina beams.

“So, tell me, is your mother doing well?” We settle back into our seats.

“Yeah. I mean, this is the first time I’ve talked to her in two years.”

“You didn’t call to tell her about your promotion?”

“No. I mean, I wanted to, but time got away from me.” I take a sip of my champagne. “But we’re okay.” Another white lie. This one hurts to say, and I take another sip of champagne to cover the pain.

“Wow, this is good!” Tina says.

“My pension is slightly better than the salary,” he winks with a grin. Tina and I laugh.

“Good to know.”

“I drove by the old house today.” Langston says. “New owners put a new coat of paint on it.”

“I’m sure. It’s their house now, you know.” My mom sold the house after my dad died when I was a toddler.

“Of course. He would be so proud of you, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” I sigh lightly and smile at him and Tina. “I wish he could be here.”

“Me, too.” Langston says, then raises his glass again. “To Rook!”

“To Rook!” Tina and I call out, clinking our glasses together once more. Tina grins at me. She’s heard about my dad, not that I talk about him that often, but he is a piece of Wayhaven history especially in the police department.

///

The mini-celebration lasts for an hour. Verda and Douglas join us, and the champagne bottle sits empty in my trash can when I turn the light off. Langston and I are the last to leave. We wave to the night clerk, a volunteer position that thankfully still attracts volunteers. Not that much happens at night in Wayhaven.

“I mean it, Nicole, your dad would be so proud.” Langston is only a few inches shorter than I am. He hugs me tightly. Langston was my father figure growing up, especially when Mom would disappear for months on end due to work.

“Thanks.” He squeezes my arms and sighs.

“No matter what happens, don’t let this investigation eat you up. Some things you just can’t solve.” I give him a small, tired smile.

“Don’t worry about me.” _Dad_. Not that I would ever say that out loud.

“Can’t help it, kid.” He chuckles. “Get home safely.”

“You, too, old man.” I tease back at him. We go our separate ways. I decide to walk home; he passes me in his old, but still in good condition, hatchback.

It’s a dark winter night. I take my phone out and make a phone call I should have made earlier to my mom.

“Hey, Mom.” I say as I hear the line pick up.

“Good evening. Is everything alright?”

“Of course. I’m just walking home from the station.” I smile. “Langston came over and we had a little office party with everyone. He was asking about you.”

“We still check in every now and then.” Probably once a year, on the anniversary of Dad’s death.

“He gave me some pretty solid advice.” I lean against the crosswalk sign. Even with no cars around, it’s better to be safe than sorry. _Always safe, never sorry_. Another saying I’ve picked up from Langston.

“I’m glad you two have stayed in touch.”

“Me, too.” I stare at the red hand on the other side of the street. “Um. So, do you want to grab dinner later this week? Just you and me.” _No boys allowed._

There’s a pause. “I’d really like that, Nicole.”

I smile. “Great.” I start walking across the street after looking both ways. Still empty. It’s only nine at night on a Wednesday, after all.

“Where are you?”

“Nearly home.” I grin. “Oh, you should come see the house. Douglas has started bringing his own plants in.”

“You’re just like your dad,” Mom says with a light sigh. “Detective and gardener.”

I open my mouth to say – “Minus the wife and kids” – but I stop myself. His death has still hit my mother hard, even after nearly twenty years. Talking about him is like playing Russian roulette with her mood. I’d rather stay on a high note tonight.

“I’m sorry I haven’t stayed in touch,” Mom says.

“Don’t worry about it.” My thirtieth birthday passed without a note or card. But I understand why: my father never reached his thirtieth birthday. Most of the information I have about my dad comes from Langston, his wife, and old photographs and videos that my mom gave to them.

“No, I am sorry.”

“Mom, really, it’s okay. I still love you.” The lights on the house are off, I can see as I turn down Wisteria Way. I wonder if Douglas is out with Jenny tonight. Good for him.

“I know you do. I love you, too.”

“Sorry about the whole … thing today in my office.” I bite my lip. “I thought I was ready for this promotion, but everything is kind of happening all at once. I was caught off guard this morning.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. It’s a cliché for a reason, local and federal law enforcement butting heads. Your police station has given us more to go on than any of the others in the past.”

“Good. I mean, we really do have a great team here in Wayhaven. Too bad Langston retired right before this happened.”

“I don’t think it’s in the budget to have more than one detective anymore.”

“Yeah, but he and I worked on cases before when I was an officer.” I punch the lock code into the wooden front door. It beeps at me and I hear it unlock. “He said Dad would be proud of me.”

“Oh, he was always proud of you. I remember how happy he was when you had your first real poop.” We both laugh. It’s a rare moment, to have her open up like this. “I’m up here, actually. At the gravesite.”

“All the way up there?” My dad is buried in the Memorial Hill cemetery about half an hour north of Wayhaven with several other ex-military and law enforcement officers from the county. My dad, having been both, is buried beside his brothers and parents. I was the first in the Greene family to not go into the military… though that was at my own insistence, with my mother’s support.

“We’re staying in a hotel near here.”

“Oh, not in Wayhaven?”

“No. I didn’t want to attract too much attention.”

“Tell him hi, and I love him, and I miss him.” I close the door behind me.

“Always.” She sighs lightly. “If you’re home, I’ll let you go. You need some rest.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Nicole. See you tomorrow.”

She hangs up the call. I turn the lights in the kitchen on and open the fridge. There isn’t much, as usual. We live on a diet of take-out and microwaved meals in this house. _Dad probably wouldn’t be so proud of that_ , I think with a smile.

///

Freshly showered and with a cigarette on my lips, I watch the dark sky outside. Even with the sparse streetlights, the night is _dark_. I used to love nights like these. Now, knowing there is a killer out there, it makes my shoulders tense up.

I hear a loud car nearby. I know it’s Douglas, and possibly (hopefully) Jenny. She seems nice enough. Definitely his type. _And Bobby’s_.

I take another drag and exhale away any lingering thoughts of Bobby.

My room faces the other side of the house, but I hear giggling and laughter as the door opens and closes. Definitely Jenny.

I’ve been happily single for two years. But, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also lonely.

Tina’s words play back in my mind: _He was totally checking you out._ I roll my eyes and take another drag.

They are most definitely off-limits… 


	3. January 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mixing FBI and small town police is always a recipe for disaster, isn't it? Detective Greene is left out of the loop on an important development.

_January 14_

It’s a beautiful spring morning in Wayhaven. Looming clouds on the horizon threaten a likely winter downpour.

I’ve been watching too much of the local weather reports during breakfast.

It’s a short and brisk walk to the station. I drink my coffee on the way to work. It’s a good day.

Even when I see that Douglas isn’t in yet when I walk into the station. Seeing as he wasn’t there when I woke up, I wonder briefly where he could be. _Probably getting breakfast with Jenny._ I shake my head and leave a quick note on his desk for him to check in with me when he gets in.

I’m pleasantly surprised to see Unit Bravo already in the office. I wave to them as I walk in.

“Good morning,” I greet them.

“Good morning,” Agent Sewell greets me warmly. Agent du Mortain nods with a similar greeting.

“What’s in store today?” Agent Hauville asks by the window with a grin. Agent Mason, naturally, is already hard at work on one of his many morning cigarettes by the open window.

“Solving this murder case,” I say as I see Tina rolling the station’s whiteboard in from the break room. I wave at her. “Morning, Tina.”

“Good morning, DG!” She beams as she opens the door. Her eyes flick over to Agent Mason with a grin.

“What’s that for?” Agent Sewell asks, nodding his head towards the whiteboard.

“Good old-fashioned crime solving,” Agent Hauville grins. “I’ve seen this in the movies.”

I head over to my desk to see if the markers are still in here. I kneel down, then frown at the closed drawer where my fern used to be. I look up, ready to ask who closed the drawer, when I notice my fern in a beautiful blue pot by the door. I gasp.

“I love it!” I call out, grinning around the room. “Who repotted my fern?”

Agent Sewell points to Agent du Mortain. He nods at me with a small smile. “It was the least I could do.”

“Really, it was,” Agent Hauville assures me with a wink.

“No, really, thank you.” I look from Agent du Mortain to my fern with a smile.

“Did you head down to the hospital yet?” Tina asks, erasing the previous marks on the whiteboard. It looks like we haven’t used this whiteboard since last year’s March Madness.

“Not yet.” I glance up at the clock. “I was going to head out in a sec. Why?”

“I want to go.” She says, hand on her hip. “I feel like I haven’t been able to do much on this investigation.”

“Oh. Sure, yeah. Knock yourself out.” I point a finger at her. “Not literally, please. Not again.”

“Psh, you worry too much.” Tina waves me off. “I’ll be fine.”

I walk over to the whiteboard with two black markers. I lean in close to her, keeping my voice low. “This isn’t related to the very hot nurse who works on the second floor, right?”

“What?” Tina exclaims, a little too loudly for it _not_ to be related. “No way. I don’t even know if he’s working today, or anything.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“Uh-huh.” I use the marker to write _Janet Pearson_ at the top of the board. “Don’t get too distracted. You’re on the clock.” I bite my lip again to keep from laughing out. Tina shakes her head at me with a grin.

“You got it, boss.” She gives me a salute, then a nod to the nearly crowded room full of agents. “Fellas.”

I watch her walk away through the glass partition and shake my head. I nearly jump at Agent du Mortain suddenly appearing at my side. He’s staring intently at the whiteboard, though there’s nothing left on it.

“We should include the other pictures on here as well,” he says.

“We can add them to the back. They aren’t directly related to our current investigation.” I touch Janet’s name.

“They are all connected.” He glances over at me.

“Okay.” I sigh and turn the whiteboard around. “We can add them here. And whatever we know about the suspect. But the front will be focused on our _active_ investigation.” Agent du Mortain nods at me then looks over his shoulder at Agent Hauville.

“Get out of the detective’s chair.”

“Why?”

I bite my lip and turn away, bringing a fist up to hide my chuckle.

///

An hour later, Tina walks back into my office. I look up from my computer screen. Unit Bravo was summoned by my mother, so I’ve been working alone for the past half hour catching up on emails and paperwork. My third cup of coffee of the day and I have been very productive, if a little overenthusiastic with exclamation points.

“So, good news and bad news.” She says as she hands me the report.

“Okay?” I open the envelope and glance over the results.

“Good news is the results were ready when I got there. Bad news is that Nurse Hudson was out today.” Tina pouts, taking a seat across from me. I pout back, tilting my head at her.

“Sorry, Tina.” The report indicates that everything was normal: no toxins, no drugs, not even alcohol in her blood level. But also, no mention about the strange results that Verda got, either.

“What does it say?” Tina asks, leaning forward slightly.

“Um. Well, everything was normal.” I glance up at her. “Like, normal. Not at all what we got on our results.”

“Oh, Verda isn’t going to like that.”

“No, he is not.” I close the report and stand up. “I’m going to go head down and hand him this. Good work, Officer.” I grin at her. She beams.

“Oh, thank you, Detective,” she places a closed fist under her chin. “I do love the validation of my superiors.”

“Alright, back to work,” I laugh. I quickly chug the last of my coffee and nearly skip down the stairs. The plastic soles of my boots squeak down the metal stairs.

“Knock, knock,” I call out as I rap on the door. “Special delivery, courtesy of one Tina Poname.”

“The door is always unlocked when I’m down here, you know. And you have a key in the office somewhere.” Verda raises an eyebrow as he opens the door.

“I know.” Though I didn’t, really. I always assumed he was like Batman down here, working on special projects behind locked doors. Nothing fun like that ever happens in Wayhaven, I guess. “It’s just something to add a little intrigue to the day.”

“Intrigue?” He chuckles. I hand him the report and he accepts it, immediately frowning.

“Yeah, I know.” I say, watching his expression change from a simple frown to confusion.

“This isn’t right at all,” he mutters, quickly flipping through the entire report. His eyes scan the last page. “Here—are you serious? They tested the wrong sample. Janet Pearson’s blood type was O positive and the blood type of this report is B negative.” His frown deepens and he lets out a long, disappointed sigh with a shake of his head. “This is unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

“Okay, what do we do?”

“Well, tell this –” He flips back to the front of the report. “Tell this Dr. Ethan Murphy, pathologist, that they tested the wrong sample and this report is all wrong.” He hands the report back to me. I accept it with a nod and an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, Verda.”

“It’s not your fault.” He huffs. “Absolutely unbelievable.” He shakes his head again.

“I’ll go up and call them now.” I say, turning on my heel.

“Yeah, do that. Bring that Agent Mason with you.” He calls after me. I wave him off with a light laugh. The man might look intimidating, but he wouldn’t be allowed past the front desk with that cigarette that is permanently in his mouth. I sigh heavily as I reach the top of the stairs, frowning at the report in my hands.

_Absolutely unbelievable._

///

“He took the rest of the day off?” I ask as I tap my fingers impatiently against my desk.

“He did, ma’am.” I’m not mad at the clerk, obviously. And I’m trying not to _be_ mad, but this day is really turning into a dead end for this investigation.

_Is he even allowed to do that?_

“Okay. Well, it would be really helpful if you could call me, Detective Greene, at the police station as soon as he comes in tomorrow.” I bite my lip to keep from sighing.

“Of course.” The clerk responds.

“Thank you.”

“Have a great rest of your day, ma’am.”

“You too.”

I click my tongue as I hang up the office phone. “Absolutely unbelievable.”

“What?” Agent Hauville is the first in my office, as usual. Agents Sewell, Mason, and du Mortain follow. My mother hasn’t been as frequent of a guest in my office as they are.

“Well, Tina came back from the hospital with the blood results.” I wheel around my chair to face them. I lean forward and tap my thumb against the desk. “The doctor tested the wrong blood sample.”

“You’re kidding!” Agent Hauville cries out, throwing his hands in the air.

“ _And_ the doctor is apparently out for the rest of the day.”

“There is nobody else who is able to test the blood?” Agent du Mortain asks with a frown.

“Not in Wayhaven. There isn’t a county pathologist we can turn to for this. The hospital has better access than we do.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Agent Sewell asks.

“There are a few things.” I stand and gesture to the whiteboard. “We still need to identify this guy.” I point to the picture of the man with Janet in her phone’s pictures. “We need to find any family or next of kin, still, before we can release her name.” I put my hands on my hips and stare at the mostly blank whiteboard. _We’re really getting nowhere._

“We have the phone records. We can try to cross reference the information from the phone records with known contacts in her cell phone.” I nod to Agent du Mortain.

“Good idea. Then I’ll try to get in contact with her next of kin again.” It had been a dead end yesterday, with both contacts labeled as ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ listed as unavailable when I called them. _Maybe her parents are always on the go, like my mom._

///

 _Call me._ I frown at the text message that beeps on my phone, then place it down. No, Bobby, I will _not_ call you.

“Who is it?” Agent Hauville asks, perking up from the desk chair. His preferred location to sit in my office is at my desk, which is just as well because I have discovered how much I enjoy leaning against my desk. Agent Mason is a few feet away from me, staring at us. It’s becoming weird seeing his lips without a cigarette between them.

“Wayhaven’s own Tom Brokaw.” I sigh.

“Who?” Agent Hauville asks.

“C’mon. The journalist.”

“Don’t know him.” He grins up at me. I roll my eyes.

“You would recognize him if you saw him. He is, like, super famous. I think he’s won like a dozen Emmys.”

“A dozen what?” My mouth drops open.

“Felix isn’t much into popular culture,” Agent Sewell interjects. I turn to him with a smile.

“Guess not.” I shake my head, turning my attention back to the file in my hand.

“Oh! You mean that blonde kid who keeps turning up.” I snort and glance back up at Agent Hauville.

“He’s our age,” I tell him.

“Our age?” Agent Hauville asks, then barks out a laugh. I glance around the office.

“Yeah, we’re all in our late twenties, early thirties.” Agent Hauville scoffs.

“Speak for yourself.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, whatever.”

My phone beeps again. I frown down at it.

“Wow. He really wants to talk to you.” Agent Hauville says. I sigh and rub my eyes.

“He wants something.”

“It’s not your job to talk to the press.” Agent du Mortain says from near the whiteboard. He glances at me over his shoulder, arms crossed.

“No, it’s not.” I look back down at the report and ignore the vibrating call coming through on my phone.

///

“Detective, looks like you have company.” Agent Mason says with the cigarette in his mouth. I look up from my computer and follow his gaze to find Bobby Marks himself waving his phone madly in front of my office.

“Excuse me.” I groan and nearly stomp out if the office. It’s almost time to go home and I don’t want to deal with this.

“Bobby, seriously, what do you want?” I ask as soon as I close the door to my office. He holds his phone up and points it at me.

“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for over two hours!” He huffs out.

“I’m working!” I wave my arm towards my office. “We have an ongoing homicide investigation in Wayhaven. I can’t be on my phone all day.”

“So it’s true about the doctor being involved?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The new pathologist, Dr. Ethan Murphy. Is he connected with the murder?”

“No, Bobby.” I sigh. “What are you talking about?”

“Your friends in there raided his office today, according to a source.” He nods to my office.

“Your source is wrong. They’ve been in my office with me all day.”

“Uh-huh. Well, techs claiming to be from the FBI showed up about three hours later and Dr. Murphy’s office is completely cleared out.” He crosses his arms. “Care to make a statement on that?”

“No comment!” I nearly yell out. My heart is pounding in my chest.

“Then it’s true that the FBI are leading this investigation.”

“Absolutely not.” I unclench my fists.

“Nicole, come in. They’re overstepping their authority here.” He takes a step forward. “You can’t seriously let them just take your first case from you.”

“This isn’t about me! This about keeping Wayhaven safe.” I frown at him. “Now stop bugging me.”

“I’m trying to look out for you.” He reaches out to touch my arm. I bring my hand up and slap his arm away.

“Don’t you dare touch me.” I point my finger at his chest and take a step closer. He puts his hands up and takes a step back.

“Calm down. I’m on your side here.” He glances over my shoulder. “More than they are.”

My nostrils flare as I cross my arms. “It’s time for you to go.”

“Don’t burn this bridge, Nicole.” He turns around. I do as well, facing Agent Hauville through the glass partition. His grin is met with a hot glare.

I nearly slam the door closed when I walk back into my office. Agent du Mortain gets the full heat of my glare. “When was I going to find out that your people went to the hospital and cleared out Dr. Murphy’s office?”

“When we told your mother about the incident with the blood results, she decided to take initiative and treat him as a new suspect. That included treating his office as a potential source of evidence.” Agent du Mortain explains.

“We’re working as a team. I shouldn’t be learning about this from Bobby Marks, of all people!” I gesture outside of the office. “I need to be kept in the loop.”

“She’s right,” Agent Sewell says to Agent du Mortain. “She is the Detective.”

“Yeah, no more secrets.” Agent Hauville says with a smirk. Agent du Mortain turns to glade at him, then looks expectantly to Agent Mason.

“I don’t really care,” the smoking man shrugs. I narrow my eyes at him.

“You don’t _care?_ This is a murder investigation. You should care.”

He exhales a small cloud of smoke but offers no reply.

“I may be outnumbered, but that doesn’t negate protocol.” Agent du Mortain straightens his shoulders. “If you are unhappy to be working with us, you can call your mother and tell her.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth like that. I’m more than happy to work with you but we need to be a team. You can’t do things behind my back like this. I know this town is small but I’m a good investigator. Respect me as a member of this team.” I gesture in a circle. Agent du Mortain’s eyes follow the gesture.

“What is that?”

“As a team in this office.”

“The circle didn’t really make sense,” Agent Hauville says, a hand on his chin.

 _I’m losing my mind._ I put a hand on my forehead.

“That’s a common reaction.” Agent Mason says before taking another drag.

///

We call it a day shortly after. We have identified the name and phone number of the Mystery Man, but still no luck on next of kin. She had no social media apps on her phone that could have given us any answers, either.

The rain starts falling as I head out to the parking lot. The large black SUV that the agents use is already gone.

The short drive home doesn’t last long enough. I take a quick breather in the drivers seat before heading inside.

 _I’m really blowing it as Detective._ I swear, the sudden reappearance of my elusive mother has thrown me off balance. I wouldn’t say we have a bad relationship, but it’s not good. Judith Kingston was more of a mother than Mom ever was. Mom was always gone, and she never stayed in town for longer than a month. Her job wasn’t suited for having a kid. The Kingston’s took me in and raised me as one of their own. I don’t think I even have a picture of my mother, but I have tons of Mom and me. My _real_ Mom.

I step into the steaming shower. I groan as the water hits my body. It hurts, in a cleansing way. I stay in for longer than is necessary, but I’m home alone tonight so I don’t really care. When I come out, I walk to the open window overlooking the small wooded trail on the backside of the house. The towel preserves my modesty on the off chance that there is somebody out there in this rain.

I pull a carton of cigarettes out of my bedside table. Leaning against the windowsill, I light up a cigarette and watch the rain fall outside. As it gets darker, I get dressed for bed finally. The TV on the wall is playing an old romantic movie, the perfect background for some evening smoking.

I glance out the window again, taking a drag. My eyes scan the tree line. It looks almost like somebody is out there, but as soon as I squint, it’s clear to me that it’s just a tree. I shake my head and take another drag. I’m becoming paranoid.


End file.
